


court death

by hyphae



Category: League of Legends
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-30
Updated: 2018-09-30
Packaged: 2019-07-20 22:47:21
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16147157
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hyphae/pseuds/hyphae
Summary: They must have known each other, the dancing pair and the pretty lady.





	court death

The rune war made Lamb very busy.

Red sky dawned on the fire-blackened battlefield as her spectral white form flitted to and fro, over the singed forms of fallen soldiers. Lamb laid soft hands over the eyes to give them rest, closing her eyes behind her mask as she did so each time. Not because of remorse, or sadness, because her job was to deliver rest to all creatures, and this wouldn't be the first or last great departure of souls she'd oversee, but simply because her work required focus.

Nearby, Wolf sniffed the air.

"What is it, my dear?" Lamb asked gently.

"Something born. Something alive... and hungry," Wolf snarled, curling around Lamb, his trail undulating restlessly.

Lamb ran fingers down his snout. "More food for you, then, when the time comes."

\--

Evelynn notices she's being followed not long after she gets good at what she does. Out of the corner of her vision as she finishes a meal, she'd spot a flash of white, sometimes a wisp of darker darkness than she knows is natural. Knowing no fear, as a creature not bound to flesh and blood, Evelynn's curiosity was piqued at the novel intruder. So she stalked it. From the shadows she watched, and followed, and soon learned of the duo's presence wherever life was extinguished.

Feeling confident, Evelynn steps out to greet Lamb at one of these sites, assuming the most effective form she'd taken so far, a beautiful woman with long dark hair. Lamb does not act surprised or frightened, simply looks over from where she was standing over a fallen man and waves. Evelynn thinks the bright spots where eyes would be squint a little in a friendly smile.

"I've noticed the two of you have a preoccupation with death," Evelynn says.

Lamb raises her hand up to her mouth in a giggle. Evelyn thinks the shadow that had started to swirl around them shakes in laughter as well. Unfazed, she continues. "How would you like a feast of corpses? I can provide that for you very easily."

"And what," Lamb says, leaning forward at the waist, daintily holding her bow behind her with both hands, "would you like us to do for you?"

Evelynn is practiced at this part. She tilts her head and gives her most disarming smile. "Just your company," she says. "And your name, if you please?"

"They call us Lamb, and Wolf," Lamb says. "And there is no need to pay tribute. We are with you always," she says softly, and with a skip backwards, the two of them fade into the night.

Evelynn is a little taken aback. But she's chased before. And she is good at being persistent.

\--

The next time she appears to Lamb as a handsome, golden-haired Demacian, presenting her with a bouquet of black roses. Lamb puts her hand to her mask in another giggle as she takes them from Evelynn's hands, and in Lamb's pale, shining fingers the roses fade, the stems turning brown, the petals drooping, and then the bouquet drops from her hands as a shower of ash and rot.

"Thank you," Lamb said. "They were lovely."

Evelynn doesn't turn off the charm. "They reminded me of you."

"Why? They are mortal."

"They're beautiful."

Lamb cocks her head to the side. "You're right," she says. "We have been called that before."

"I'm Evelynn," Evelynn says.

"We know," said Lamb.

"Or I'm called that. By those who fear me. But you don't, do you?" And Evelynn reaches a bold hand forward and Lamb does not move away and Evelynn caresses wool, soft to the touch, whose tips fade between her fingers like smoke. "Doesn't it get lonely?" Evelynn whispers, deep and husky. "All alone, chasing other creatures' ends out there."

Lamb in her turn reaches up and runs a few fingers across Evelynn's jaw. They tingle on her skin, but don't burn it. "We're not alone," Lamb says, turning to her companion, silently observing in the shadows of the room. "But we do get lonely. You're welcome to tag along," she says, and withdraws, and Evelynn finds herself alone in the room again.

She sits herself down and twirls her golden shadow-flesh locks out of frustration. She's not supposed to be the one who _follows around._ Since she started this gig, nobody has rejected her like that when she's gone all out. It was disheartening in a way that was very annoying to Evelynn and _severely_ unsexy. She decided to put the creepy duo out of her mind.

\--

She saw Wolf's shadow in the streets of Zaun as she masqueraded as a rich merchant's consort up above in Piltover. On tram rides through the lower districts, on the arm of her lover, she watched in fascination his work; the victims of the plague who denied its existence in their bodies were the ones who struggled the most and who suffered the most until Wolf claimed them. She saw him, hungrily peering at the residents of Piltover too. The ones who did not respect the plague, who believed themselves part of a more advanced breed, one which does not succumb to fatal illnesses. She watched Wolf drive men and women to madness by their sickness, before Wolf would consume them.

"You're just like me," she told him the night he came for her merchant lover. "You enjoy the desperation when they try to escape."

Wolf snarled in laughter as he ripped the man's essence from his body. "The hunt, the hunt! It's glorious, no?"

She walked up and lifted the bottom of his muzzle with one hand, looked into his eyes and winked. "Next time don't steal my kills, honey?"

Wolf laughed again. "No promises." And he was off. Evelynn supposed he was very busy.

A soft glow out in the hallway was Lamb's presence, gently driving arrows into the hearts of others in the household who went peacefully with the plague. Evelynn didn't stay to spectate. She needed a new target.

\--

The first thing she knew had been war, and she'd never lost her taste for it, so Evelynn would sit on Noxian ramparts to observe a territorial conquest, or on a tall pine in the Freljord as bands clashed in combat. Now that she was acquainted, she could see the unmistakeable form of Lamb's deadly dance and that of Wolf's hungry prowl. From far away, Lamb waved at her for a split second, like an old friend, before resuming her duties. _Huh,_ Evelynn thought. _She remembered me._

\--

"Someone turn you down? No way. I can't imagine it," laughed the pretty, carefree youth at the bar, red-faced. Evelynn tapped the tips of her fingers on her Martini glass and smiled, red lips curling up in a round face framed by short dark locks. Her date gathered himself before continuing. "I mean, you're irresistable. Objectively," he tried to recover.

"Hmm yes I've tasted the bitter tang of rejection too, I'm afraid," said Evelynn, dramatically closing her eyes and rolling her shoulders up as she sighs.

"But who would ever say no to you?" He went on, curiousity burning through his need to please her.

Evelynn thought for a moment. "She was untouchable. A shining statue who only wanted to be friends." The man nodded to himself as if in sympathy. "And him... He had plenty of spirit, but he only wanted one thing, and it wasn't me."

"Do you ever miss them?" He said.

Evelynn trailed painted nails along one side of his cheek. "Oh, I think I'll be seeing them again, real soon."


End file.
